


what i'd say if i had the words

by sadonsundays



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Anxiety, But Peter is 18, Canon Divergence, Depression, Did I Mention Angst?, Doesn't mean it should be, First Time, Just because it is, M/M, Masterbation, My gay ass loves drama, Past Pepper/Tony - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Tension, Tender Tony, Thanos briefly mentioned throughout, Time hop, plenty of that, post IW, somewhat slow burn, tired tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadonsundays/pseuds/sadonsundays
Summary: It’s in his eyes.It’s always in the eyes.





	what i'd say if i had the words

**Author's Note:**

> i've been unable to think of anything else post IW. mistakes all my own. title by ellie goulding

Peter doesn’t have a crush. He doesn’t. 

It’s more than that. 

It’s hard to describe how he feels for Mr. Stark because he himself doesn’t understand it half the time.

Up until recently he didn’t even realize he liked men, much less men twice his age. 

Honestly, in his bones, he feels like Mr. Stark returns how he feels. But why can’t he—

A deep, pulsing ache within him tells him not to think about that right now. He’s tired of pining. 

Right now he just needs to get off.

He wants Mr. Stark in a way he knows he shouldn’t—can’t help himself as his soft, clammy hand grips his cock hard— attempting to stroke slowly, trying to drag the fantasy out. 

In it, he’s on his knees in Mr. Stark’s lab, sucking him off under a table while he struggles to focus on suit modifications. 

“Just a little harder, watch your teeth,” Mr. Stark would instruct, hand gentle but firm in Peter’s hair as he’d take him in deeper—

Peter would pull off, panting as he confessed, “I’ve never done this before, Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Stark would moan, grip his hair tighter as he’d praise, “You’re doing so good, kid. Don’t worry—“

Peter groans, hand speeding up on his cock as he imagines. His thighs tremble as he moves his hips back and forth on his sheets—head spinning as he pictures going down on his hero—

“Please,” Peter would beg, kissing the delicate skin of Mr. Stark’s thighs, “show me how...”

“I’ll show you, I’ll take care of you—“

The sound of the front door slamming quickly shatters the dreamy fog Peter’s fallen into, heart racing as he listens.

“Peter!” Aunt May calls from down the hallway, on the move towards him.

Peter bolts from his bed so fast he sees black spots as he stumbles to stand— legs wobbly and cheeks flushed as he gazes down at his pink, weeping cock. 

“Oh no, oh please no,” he panics, voice frantic and high pitched as he scrambles to wipe his hand off. 

“Gross,” he whisper-shouts as he lifts his shirt and smears precome on his stomach, eyes darting around the room and landing on his sweats from earlier. 

He moves to pull on the pants as he suddenly registers not one, but two sets of footsteps making their way down the hall.

“You doing something illegal, kid?” And seriously? Is this his life?

“Oh very funny, Tony,” May responds, dry.

“Peter?” She calls again. 

“Just a minute!” Peter answers, fear of being caught evident as his shaky hands try to tie the drawstrings on his sweats.

He sits back down on his bed so quickly his skull connects with the headboard—leaving him painfully woozy as his aunt and Tony enter the room. 

“Oh hey,” he says, head spinning as he reaches for a pillow to cover his problem.

Tony’s eyebrows raise as he takes in the scene, smirking knowingly as he notices Peter’s partially hidden lap.

“What’re you doing in here, Parker? Cat nap?”

Peter wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole. His face burns a bright red as he stutters out, “Mr.-Mr. Stark! I had no idea you were coming by today!”

He’s trying to get his breathing under control but all he can focus on is how hard he is. His heart flutters wildly under duress. 

May looks concerned as she notes the faint flush on his chest, the slightly red blotchiness of his cheeks. 

“Honey? You alright?”

Thankfully, Tony steps in.

“Peter, I’ve got a brand new, ridiculously overpriced sports car parked out front that I’d like to impress your aunt with. Why don’t we give you a minute?”

May rolls her eyes as Tony clasps her hand, leading her gently out of the room. He shoots Peter one last look before they exit, smile soft and understanding.

“Be right back,” he mouths with a wink.

Peter’s heart flutters, then abruptly clenches. He’s so embarrassed. 

“Shoot, shoot, shoot,” he mutters, willing himself to think of anything BUT Tony Stark.

He thinks of the neighbor who always has food in his teeth, thinks of the garbage lining the city streets, thinks of how bad it smells when someone microwaves a fish—bingo.

“Thank you universe,” he says aloud, relief flooding his veins as his erection begins to wilt. 

He heads into the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face, trying to tone down the reddish pink color staining his cheeks and the top park of his neck. 

He sighs.

He didn’t even get to come.

(-)

Mr. Stark whisks him away to the compound later, gracious as ever and not even mentioning Peter’s earlier debacle. 

He’s nearly forgotten it now, having been distracted by the insane amount of upgrades Mr. Stark applied to Spider-Man’s newest suit. 

Peter finally starts to calm down, adrenaline ebbing into something softer— more slow, as he and Tony take a break from the lab.

Tony probably wants to talk to Peter about college since graduation is right around the corner. Peter knows he’ll insist on MIT, which Peter was already granted early acceptance, but Peter wants to go somewhere closer in the city. Near May.

And Tony.

Peter rubs his eyes as he sits down on the couch, feeling jittery. 

It’s a Friday night, and Mr. Stark correctly assumed Peter had no plans when he surprised him earlier. Even if Peter did have plans, he would’ve canceled them. He loves spending time with Mr. Stark, especially when it’s just the two of them like it is now.

Although it’s gotten to be a lot more difficult lately. 

Over the past few months Peter’s adoration for Mr. Stark has been morphing from father-like, childhood hero adoration to something darker, more inappropriate. 

He couldn’t directly pinpoint when the shift started to happen, but if he had to guess it would be after Titan.

After Thanos.

Peter shivers violently, feeling a dreaded heat rise in his stomach. He closes his eyes as the noise around him drowns down to nothing. In an instant, clear as day, he sees Tony in front of him, suit shattered to bits—shielding him, prepared to die for him—

“Pete?”

Peter flinches when he realizes there’s a big, warm hand on his shoulder.

“Peter?” Tony says, concern evident in the frown on his face as Peter makes eye contact with him. 

Peter shakes his head as he feels an overwhelming anxious feeling begin to bloom in his chest— the telltale signs of a panic attack. He can’t believe this is happening— he thought he had it under control—

“Mr.—Mr. Stark, I—“

Tony sits down next to him, well acquainted with post traumatic stress disorder. 

“Peter, listen to the sound of my voice.”

He sounds gentle, peaceful. Peter immediately feels calmer as he closes his eyes and reaches for Tony’s hand.

“You’re okay, I’m here. I’m not leaving. Just breathe, baby, can you do that for me?”

Peter nods his head, eyes still closed as he inhales.

A different type of warmth begins spreading over his frantic heart at the endearment, something Tony’s taken to calling him—rarely, privately—ever since the battle. 

Whether Tony wants to admit it or not, Peter is his baby. He supports him, guides him, protects him. They have a bond that’s only grown stronger after Thanos.

“You’re alright,” Tony tells him.

Peter’s starting to come back down, squeezing Tony’s hand for comfort. 

“I’m okay,” Peter whispers after a moment, panic slowing fading away, “I’m okay, Mr. Stark.”

Tony squeezes his hand again, keeps his grip firm as he pulls Peter into his chest. 

“Do you need to talk?”

Peter shakes his head no. The moment feels so fragile he’s afraid to break it. 

“Okay.”

Peter closes his eyes. He never feels safer then when he’s with Tony.

He has no idea how long they sit there but Peter eventually dozes off to the rhythm of Tony’s breathing and the comforting smell of his scent. 

When he wakes next, they’re horizontal and it’s dark in the room, quiet. 

Peter has his arm thrown across Tony’s chest while Tony sleeps, face free from stress and worry for once. 

Peter doesn’t know the last time he saw Tony look so peaceful. 

He presses the tip of his nose gently into the warm skin between Tony’s neck and collarbone, inhaling deeply. 

Tony mumbles, gives a soft grunt, but otherwise doesn’t stir. 

Peter smiles against his skin, pressing a barely there kiss to it before moving off the couch. 

He’s washing his hands in the bathroom when he hears movement coming from down the hall.

“Kid?” Tony calls.

“In here,” Peter replies, heart fluttering nervously at having to face Tony after his panic attack.

He opens the door to Tony, looking soft and sleep deprived.

Peter nearly loses his breath from how badly he wants him.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “Tony—“ which he never says, but can’t help it, it’s the middle of the night, he’s emboldened by the dark—

Tony frowns at him, lifts his hands up and places them on Peter’s shoulders.

“Hey, don’t you start, okay? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

He pulls Peter into a hug, telling him he already called May earlier. 

“Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?”

Peter shakes his head against Tony’s chest, feeling vulnerable.

“Pete? What is it?”

“Um,” he starts, then rambles quickly. 

His words are muffled against Tony’s chest— too afraid to be said aloud clearly.

“What did you say?”

Peter just nuzzles further into Tony. 

Tony sighs. 

“Pete, I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.”

This time, Peter doesn’t hesitate. 

“I need you,” he whispers.

Tony tenses. He slowly unwraps his arms from Peter’s shoulders, stepping back and putting a foot or so of distance between them. 

“Peter,” Tony says, sounding pained, “we can’t.”

Peter’s heart races.

“I’m—I—“ he stutters, “I’m not asking for anything more than—“ he pauses, lost for words.

Tony doesn’t interrupt him, crossing his arms as he waits for him to finish.

“I just want to sleep with you,” Peter finishes, lamely. 

“Only sleep,” he clarifies a second later.

“Please,” he breathes.

Tony closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Peter knows he’s trying to remain calm. They don’t talk about the tension between them, ever. They don’t act on it either—but Peter has no idea why. Pepper left for good awhile ago. The avengers were back together. The threats from the universe had finally died down. 

And Peter’s been legal for well over a year. 

He tries not to let that realization hurt—but he can’t help it. Tony’s refusal to acknowledge whatever shift’s happened between them leaves Peter feeling wounded, almost ashamed. 

Given everything they’ve been through together, Peter doesn’t understand why Tony won’t...

He stops himself. 

It’s complicated. 

And Peter’s too tired to fully think about it at the moment. All he really wants is to just go back to sleep.

With Tony. 

“Peter, I don’t-“

“Tony, please,” Peter interrupts, voice breaking near the end, “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Peter knows what that voice does to Tony— feels a bit cruel using it. But he can’t help himself. He’s desperate.

“I just want you close,” Peter whispers. 

Tony looks down, blinking rapidly. Peter knows what he’s thinking— how he almost lost Peter, for good. It’s another subject on the long list of things they don’t talk about. 

A beat passes before Tony says anything. And then Peter can see the exact moment he gives in, shoulders slumping as he gives the tiniest of nods. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he mutters, “Okay. Come on.”

He turns around and begins walking down the opposite way of where he came from, towards his bedroom.

Tony doesn’t turn on the light when they walk in, choosing instead to walk right over to the bed and climb under the covers. 

Peter stands in the doorway for a second, hesitant. 

“Well?” 

“Um. Right. I’m coming,” he nearly trips on the walk over, heart pounding rapidly behind the wall of his lungs. 

Tony lifts the corner of the comforter for him and he slides right in, nearly groaning aloud at how good the sheets feel against his skin.

He scoots as close to Tony as he can, nervous about touching him. 

Tony lets out an annoyed huff, murmuring “C’mere” as he drags Peter close enough for their arms to touch. 

“Tony,” Peter breathes.

Tony pulls him by the arm, bringing him to his chest and cradling him there, keeping his grip loose enough that Peter could remove himself if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to.

“Thank you,” Peter utters, warm and safe and satisfied. 

“You’re alright. Go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

He’d never tell Peter, but it’s the best night of sleep Tony’s had in years. 

(-)

When Tony wakes, birds are singing and Peter’s gone. 

There’s a note on the end table next to the bed.

‘Went on a walk. Come find me!’

Tony can’t suppress the smile on his face. 

He tries not to think too deeply about the night before as he showers and gets dressed. 

He allows himself only one cup of coffee before he leaves the compound, spirits higher than they’ve been in awhile.

It’s a beautiful day, the sun barely having risen over the hills in the distance. 

He doesn’t put the suit on, feeling like the kid wants him to find him without all the advanced technology. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have access to it at all times, though. He can’t not, not after—

He stops himself from venturing down that path, thinks instead of the ones he loves and how happy he is with where everyone ended up—even if they’re a bit scattered. 

Steve and Bucky stayed behind in Wakanda— wanting to start a new life there. They’re immensely private, and Tony only receives updates when he literally begs T’Challa or Shuri, but according to the siblings the super soldiers are incredibly happy. This makes Tony relieved. Despite his complicated history with Cap, he’ll always love him. And he’s glad he’ll finally get a chance to be with Bucky peacefully after all these years. 

Thor and Loki established a small, beautiful Asgardian village a couple hundred miles upstate. Tony is welcome to visit whenever he wants, and he has on many occasions. They took Bruce with them whom Tony can’t bear to go too long without seeing. But he loves that Bruce is with the brothers, he seems most at home with them.

Rhodey, Falcon, Vision, Wanda, Hawkeye, and Natasha come and go throughout the year—still on active duty. Tony loves the rare occasions where they’re all together, sharing a meal or hanging in the backyard around a fire, reminiscing. It makes him so grateful, if only a little lonely. 

It’s painfully obvious how paired or partnered off everyone seems to be— which is, fine. Tony used to be too. But after the world ended and began again— Pepper walked away for good. Tony gets it. He does. He’s just...sad, sometimes. Maybe a little nostalgic as well. 

But Pepper deserves someone who wont drag her through pain and sorrow time and time again—Tony sighs.

The only person here at the compound with him more than Happy is Peter. 

Tony’s heart kicks at the thought of him. 

He looks around.

He doesn’t know why, but it’s like he can feel where Peter is. He makes his way towards the only creek on the property. It’s a good distance away but Tony doesn’t mind the walk. 

Some time passes as he enjoys the softness of the morning. The compound is such an idyllic place. He’s crossing a wide open field, walking through a gray mist still clinging to the damp ground, when he stops and looks up.

The sky is the purest blue he’s ever seen.

He breathes in the fresh air, feels how the tension bleeds from his shoulders as he lets go.

He doesn’t remember the last time he just let himself be. He looks around—truly sees with his sight as it snaps into focus. The green of the young spring leaves, the glittery dew on the grass, the intense yellowish-pink glow of the low sun. 

A profound sense of gratitude fills him, pumping through his veins. “Thank you,” he mutters aloud to no one and nothing in particular. He doesn’t need to be told, “You’re welcome.” The fact that he’s still alive after all this time is proof enough of that. 

He continues walking, not stopping again until he reaches a clearing next to the creek. 

Wind rustles among the leaves as Tony takes in the sun reflecting off the water and the deep evergreen moss spreading along the rock shelves.

It’s simple but serene and nearly takes his breath away. 

He gets lost in his head again, memories of weekend walks with his mother out in the country flooding his mind—the sun beating down on him like it does now. There’s an ache slowly weaving its way into his heart, makes him close his eyes again.

Then he remembers why he’s here. 

He opens his eyes.

Peter is nowhere to be found. 

Tony smirks.

“So you want to play hide and seek?” He calls, voice booming through the trees.

No answer.

Tony knows Peter can hear him, probably see him. 

“If you don’t come to me, Parker, so help me—“

He rolls his eyes.

“Oh god,” he pauses, “I sound like Aunt May.”

He can’t help but chuckle, wondering briefly what she’s up to. If she knew he lost her nephew, again...

“Stop,” he breathes under his breath, calming his heart before it even has the chance to kick up.

“Peter,” he calls out, “please stop this silly game.”

No response.

Peter must be feeling so smug, the anticipation building gleefully. Tony remembers being young, remembers what it was like for someone to come find him—no one ever did, he was that good.

Peter may be better.

He has a tactic to draw the boy out but it’s dirty. Too dirty. 

He possibly couldn’t, knows he shouldn’t. But no one’s ever called him a patient man. 

His fingers brush the hem of his black tee, tentative. He starts to lift it up, can feel the sunshine on his bare abdomen as he nearly pulls it over his head—

“Um. What’re you doing?”

Tony almost has a heart attack because suddenly the kid is just there— right in front of him, cheeks flushed and hair looking a bed head mess. 

Tony pulls his shirt back down a little too firmly.

“Well, well,” he begins, grinning.

“You found me,” Peter responds, giddy. 

“And what’re we doing out here?”

Peter opens his mouth to respond before quickly shutting it, looking at a loss for words.

“Uh—,” he stutters, “well, you see—“

Tony takes pity on him, taking a step back to give him some room. He’s clearly embarrassed, though Tony isn’t sure why. 

“So,” he begins, words coming in a rush, “I wanted us to take a walk and just get some fresh air—enjoy being outside where it’s warm and easy, I wanted us to spend some time together, you know—“

“Hey, hey,” Tony says softly, “pump the breaks, Parker. Take a deep breath, it’s just you and me.” 

Peter nods, giving him an adorable half-smile as he blushes and looks at the ground. He breathes deep, rolling his shoulders back. 

God, they’ve gotten broad.

Tony could kick himself. 

“I like when it’s just you and me,” Peter admits, quiet.

Tony’s pulse starts beating rapidly again, a near constant fixture around this kid. He goes along, in too good of a mood to stop himself.

“Me too, Peter.”

Peter looks up at him, cheeks coloring pink as he smiles soft and coy.

“So what were you doing? Going for a swim?”

Tony laughs, “Something like that. You interested?”

“Oh, absolutely Mr. Stark! Let’s go!”

He starts undressing so quickly Tony barely has time to blink before the kid‘s down to his boxers, strong, defined muscles on display. 

He steps back and looks up at Tony, eyes wide and searching—eager to please—

Tony knows what he wants. Can see it in the flush spreading down Peter’s milky, smooth skin...the way he licks his lips, breathing out quietly. 

Tony’s cock twitches and his mouth suddenly dries out. This can’t happen- he cares too deeply for Peter. He can’t fuck him. He can’t. Peter is so much more to him than someone to warm his bed. He won’t cheapen what they have because he can’t control his dick. 

He loves Peter, would die for Peter. He refuses to mess him up the way he did any previous partner—

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, looking unsure and so young.

“Sorry kid, let me get with the program,” Tony coughs to cover up how intense this moment feels. 

He turns around, needing not to look into Peter’s hopeful, longing eyes. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

“Uh,” Peter starts, rather awkwardly, “I’m going in—“

“Be right there,” Tony cuts him off gruffly.

He hears a splash as he’s taking his shorts off. Next comes his hoodie. He opts to leave his tank top on; there can’t be too much skin on display in this situation. 

He laughs out loud, hating himself.

“What’s so funny?” Peter calls.

Tony turns around; ready to make something up, when he stops. 

Peter’s glowing. Literally golden. 

He’s in an area of the creek where the sun hits him just right through the branches above, catching the droplets of water on his skin and making them glitter.

He has the most confused expression on his face, looking much like he did when they first encountered the Guardians on Titan. His hair is soaked, droplets falling off as he slicks it back.

Tony has never seen someone so gorgeous. 

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, hugging himself self-consciously. 

And that just won’t do.

“You ready for me?” 

Peter laughs and nods, looking, for lack of a better word, adorable.

Tony strides towards the creek, trying as hard as he can to turn off all the noise in his head. 

The water’s cold where it hits his toes but he doesn’t stop or hesitate. He keeps moving, getting deeper, Peter bites his lip again.

“It’s cold, right?” 

Tony laughs, secretly thankful for the temperature of the water as it literally dampens his arousal. 

“Freezing,” he responds.

“But we’ll warm up,” Peter says, tilting his head back. 

Tony almost stops, but he snaps out of it. When he reaches Peter, he hasn’t the faintest idea what he’s doing. His eyes widen when Peter covers his chest again, looking a mix of nervous, baffled and hopeful. 

“Hi?” Peter whispers.

Tony really shouldn’t touch him but it’s like he’s sleeping at the wheel, stepping aside while someone else takes control.

He moves forward, hands up—disarming. Peter nods, motioning for him to come closer with a bemused expression. 

Tony smiles.

Slowly, his hands skim the water as he wraps his arms around Peter and presses his lips to his forehead—unbearably tender. 

“Tony,” Peter breathes, sliding his arms around his waist.

The water’s cooling down around them but all Tony feels is Peter. The cold tip of his nose presses gently against Tony’s tank. He closes his eyes, squeezes the kid just that much harder.

Something is rising in him, something he’d normally push back down. 

He doesn’t want to fight it this time. 

He doesn’t know why it has to happen here but the words come nonetheless. 

“When we were on Titan,” he begins, noticing how Peter tenses and rubbing his back as he pushes on, “I don’t ever remember being so scared.”

The water ripples around them as Tony runs a hand through Peter’s hair and continues. 

“You were there, and all I wanted was to protect you. Keep you safe. And I failed.”

Peter gasps, “That’s not—“

Tony presses a sweet kiss to the top of Peter’s head, chides softly, “Let me finish.”

Peter goes quiet. 

“I failed. But then...we brought you back. And Peter, I swore I would never let anything bad happen to you again.”

He pauses before admitting, “You are the most important person in my life. Do you know that?”

A bird chirps, the water ripples around them, but all Tony notices is the weight being lifted off his shoulders. It feels so good to talk to Peter about this, all he’s been thinking, all the words he’s wanted to say so badly...

Peter shakes his head against his chest, answers, “I didn’t know that.”

Tony smiles, looking off in the distance.

“I’ve loved very few people in my life. Losing my parents, Obadiah betraying me...” He trails off, reminiscing. 

Reliving the memories is painful, but he has to make Peter understand the gravity of trauma he’s experienced.

It’s the only way.

“The there was the fallout with Steve. Which was...awful. On so many levels. Followed by Thanos— who, literally, almost destroyed us. And finally, after everything, after all that— there was Pepper—“

He stops, nearly choking up. 

Tears well in his eyes but he quickly blinks them away. He has to get this out now or he may never say what he needs to.

Peter stays quiet, holding onto him tighter than before.

“But then you came along, out of nowhere. And you’ve been here, with me, through so much. God, Peter. You’ve been nothing but a bright light— something good. A beacon. And your strength has restored mine. You motivate me to do better, to be better.”

Like a parent.

If only it were that simple. 

“I love very few people,” he repeats, “I trust even less. But you? Kid. You’re rare. Because with you— it’s both.”

Peter quietly gasps, moving back from the warm embrace of Tony’s arms. 

Tony lets his arms fall to his sides, hands gliding over the water like seagulls flying above the sea. 

“You love me? Really love me?” Peter asks. 

Tony almost laughs. “I do.”

Peter frowns. “But then why—“

Tony holds a hand up, looks down. Do it, say it—like a band-aid.

“Peter, I can’t be with you in that way.”

Silence follows, and when Tony looks up, he wishes he didn’t. Peter’s eyes are misting over and he backs away slightly, looking devastated. 

“Peter,” Tony whispers.

“Uhh. What? No, no, it’s—okay? It is okay, right? This is fine—“ Peter’s babbling, voice shaky as he tries to ward off tears. He’s moving away from Tony, but Tony won’t let him.

“Peter,” he says gently but firmly, “please come back here.”

But Peter is fast, faster than Tony. He’s moving towards the shore, shaking his head. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. Peter is supposed to understand, he’s supposed to move away from Tony, go to college, find a nice boy or girlfriend to keep him occupied.

Even given everything they’d gone through— Peter is 18. Tony could be his father. 

They’d have to defend any sort of relationship to everyone. The press would crucify Tony and shame Peter. He doesn’t even want to think about how the fellow avengers would react. No one would understand. 

Fuck. How’d it get this bad? 

This was only supposed to be a phase for Peter. A crush. 

Tony swears under his breath.

Peter makes it to the shore, trying to hide a sniffle with a brief cough. 

Tony’s heart breaks. 

“Peter,” he calls, edging on desperate as he makes his way towards the boy, “Pete, please.”

Peter won’t look at him as he dresses, quickly shoving his clothes on and looking ready to bolt. 

Tony won’t allow that. 

He makes it to Peter, adrenaline pumping through his veins and running on instinct as he grabs him and pulls him to his chest. 

“No,” Peter gasps wetly, hands coming up to push Tony away. 

“Peter—“ 

“Let me go!”

Peter shoves him, hard, and Tony always forgets the kid has super strength because he actually falls and hits the ground none too gently. 

Peter’s face falls even more as he takes in Tony’s look of shock.

“Sorry—I’m sorry, Tony—“ he mumbles, openly crying now as he falls to his knees.

“Fuck,” Tony mutters, ass sore and bruised from the impact. He has to fix this and he has to fix it now.

“I—I can’t—“

“Baby,” Tony breathes, crawling over to him, needing to comfort him, protect him—from what? Himself?

“Peter...”

Peter shifts, curling into a ball and hiding his face between his knees. He sniffles and doesn’t react as Tony touches his leg gently. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, weak.

No response. 

“Please, talk to me,” he begs. 

Peter shakes his head back and forth between his knees, mumbling something muffled.

“What did you say?”

Tony places a hand on Peter’s shoulder blade, an action he started doing after Peter came back from the dust, an attempt to communicate to him to breathe.

Peter breathes, a deep one, coughing at the end. Then he lifts his head.

Cheeks flushed, eyes red and shiny with tears, he asks in a pained voice, “Why?”

Tony opens and closes his mouth, a million responses on the tip of his tongue—but he doesn’t say anything for a moment and Peter takes that as an opportunity to continue.

“Why,” and now his voice is getting angry, loud, “would you lead me on the way you‘ve been? Why would you make me think there was a chance? Why did you literally almost die for me if you’re not in love with me?!”

He’s breathless by the end, and Tony is nearly shocked at the display. But he can’t fault Peter. As much of a genius as Tony is he can be really thick sometimes. 

He has no one to blame for this situation but himself.

Peter pushes, full on glaring as he snarls, “Did it mean anything to you? The nights we comforted each other? The way you held me like I was, like you were—“

His voice breaks.

There’s a lump in Tony’s throat.

Peter looks up, furiously blinking away tears.

He won’t look at Tony.

“You should’ve just let me die,” he whispers, defeated.

Tony snaps into action, full out refusing to let the moment pass as he’s done so many times before in the past. 

He closes in on Peter, sand under his knees as he moves towards him. 

“No, absolutely fucking not,” he says, voice firm and full of passion, “you look at me now, Peter.”

Peter lifts his head, defiance glinting briefly in his eyes before disappearing.

Tony grips his chin in his hand, gently, to offset how angry he sounds. “I would never let you die, ever. Don’t you ever say that. You hear me?”

Peter doesn’t respond.

“Peter,” Tony affirms. 

Peter gives the tiniest of nods.

The tension between them is so thick, so overwhelming, that Tony almost doesn’t say it. But he’s so tired of keeping this to himself. And he owes Peter an explanation for his actions, if nothing else. 

He sighs. Here goes nothing. 

“Peter Parker,” he begins, “Yes. I am in love with you. That is true. What is also true is that anyone I’ve ever loved I’ve hurt. Deeply. And then they leave.”

Peter frowns, looking like he’s going to respond but Tony cuts him off. 

“Listen to me Peter.”

Peter’s looking at him like a sight to behold—angst, confusion, wonder—they’re all present. He’s looking like Tony is the literal sun in the sky, the air he breathes, the food he finds nourishment in. He’s livid, but so clearly in love. It’s in his eyes.

It’s always in the eyes. 

“If I love you, I don’t want you to leave me.”

This thought was a breakthrough Tony had with his therapist years ago, right before he fell in love with Pepper. He’d rightfully earned the ‘playboy’ title because he couldn’t commit to anyone for years. But then Pep happened.

And then she left. 

It was all Tony’s fault.

“It’s an impossible want,” Tony mutters, throwing his hands up with a sad, miserable sigh. 

He thinks again of his mother, how he believed she’d be alive forever—would never go too soon—

“Stop that. Stop it,” he hears Peter say, forcing him to snap back to reality. 

And suddenly he’s looking at Peter, and he feels all the energy leave his body.

He slumps forward, pressing his face into the crook of the kid’s neck. He closes his eyes. 

Peter caresses the back of his head, fingertips lighting tracing the vulnerable nape of his neck— much like Pepper used to do. 

It calms him immediately. 

“I don’t want you to make the decision for me, Tony,” Peter says quietly. He sounds calmer now, less angry, but still firm. 

“You don’t get to decide if I get to stay or not. I do. I’m not a child. And you’re not my parent.”

He doesn’t slow down.

“If I want to be with you, and you want to be with me, I’m tired of us not being together. You won’t even let us begin because you’re so scared of the end.”

Tony shakes his head briefly. The kid’s right. 

Peter continues, “Tony. I can’t promise nothing is going to happen to me, or to you. And it isn’t fair to ask that of me. But I’m in love with you, and I don’t ever want to leave you. I might be young but who on earth can relate to me like you? Tony. There’s no one else.”

Tony pulls back, and he’s even more exhausted than before. There’s a tone of finality in Peter’s voice and Tony can’t help it. He’s so sick of fighting this. 

He leans in and finally, finally kisses Peter.

Birds sing around them.

(-)

It’s dark out. 

Peter is in Tony’s room, in Tony’s bed.

Naked. 

He feels like he’s been here for hours. 

One hand grips the back of Tony’s neck as he gasps, turning his face to mouth at Tony’s neck.

His other hand curls into the silk sheets as he pants Tony’s name.

“Baby,” Tony says, quiet, into his temple, “fuck, baby.”

He’s got his big hand wrapped firm around Peter’s cock, stroking his thumb slowly across the tip, gathering slick and dragging it down. 

“Ahh, god, Tony, it feels so good—“

“Tell me,” Tony urges, pushing his cock deeper inside Peter, nearly drooling from the slick friction.

“I—I can feel,” Peter breathes, “can feel you everywhere—“

Tony slides deeper, overwhelmed by the hot clutch of Peter’s body sucking him in. 

“I love you Tony, I love you so much,” Peter says, biting his plush bottom lip, eyes welling. 

“I love you,” Tony answers immediately, “never loved someone as much as you—“

He breaks off in a silent cry— one hand coming to wrap around Peter’s middle and pull him even closer, realizing the genuine truth of the statement he’s just made.

“Oh god,” Peter moans, pushing back against him, grabbing his cock as he pleads, “say it again— I’ve waited so long—“

Tony grips Peter’s hips, pulling him back and down on his cock, nudging his prostate as he whispers, “I love you, Peter Parker, I’m fucking in love with you.”

Peter shoots off, coming in long, white bursts against his lower stomach.

Tony moves one hand back to his cock, milking him through the afterhsocks of his orgasm. 

“Baby, there’s so much. You’re so good for me...”

“Ahh—“ Both of Peter’s hands come back to grip at Tony’s head, allowing his body to arch obscenely against Tony’s broad, defined chest. 

He pushes himself down on Tony’s dick, riding it the best he can in this position. Tony’s in him so deep he can barely breathe but he finds he might not want air anyway— he could die happy. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so tight,” Tony pants into Peter’s nape, breath damp from exertion. 

Peter closes his eyes, grinning as he clenches down.

“Oh god, oh no,” Tony almost sounds like he’s in pain but the way he grips Peter’s chest says different. There’s teeth biting into the back of his neck and Peter nearly comes again, so turned on by Tony marking him with his mouth. 

“Yeah— bite me, harder,” Peter grits out, feeling so full and over-sensitized.

Tony doesn’t waste any time, speeding up his thrusts as he latches onto Peter’s skin, whimpering low in his throat.

“C’mon Tony,” Peter half moans, “come inside me—give it to me—“

Tony’s grip goes so tight Peter’s sure there’ll be bruises lining his chest until morning. And the gasp he lets out is purely pornographic as he comes inside; lining Peter’s insides with thick, warm come.

“Baby, fuck, that’s right—take it—“ Tony groans, long and loud, as he starts to slow down his hips— pushing himself to the last creamy drop inside his boy. 

Peter turns his head, kissing any skin he can. He’s bashful yet pleased, so satisfied with his first time. 

“I love you,” kiss, “thank you,” kiss, “I’m so glad it was you.”

Tony’s hand comes up to grasp Peter’s jaw, turning him so they’re fully facing another. Peter lets out a soft cry as Tony’s cock leaves him but otherwise doesn’t say anything else. 

He waits as Tony’s stares at him, more intense than anyone ever has in his entire life.

And he went head on with Thanos.

“Thank you, Peter,” Tony begins, already sounding emotional, “for giving me such a gift.”

“You can never give it back,” Peter teases, turning even pinker under Tony’s gaze. 

“I would never. And also. In case you didn’t get the memo, I love you, too.”

Peter grins, eyes bright and watering again. 

He wraps his arms around Tony and whispers, “You better never let me go.”

Tony already swore that to himself after Thanos, but it means even more now as he promises, “I won’t.”

Peter smiles and Tony smiles back. 

In his mind, this new beginning feels a lot like release. In his heart it feels like recovery.

As he clutches Peter harder, he realizes it may be both. 

He openly allows his tears to fall for the first time in what feels like years. Peter pulls him into a tender embrace, fitting his head in the crook of Tony’s neck. 

“I’m here now,” Peter whispers, “it’s okay. You’re alright.”

And Tony already knows before Peter even says it. But his heart still soars all the same. 

“I’m going to stay.”

Tony breathes. He knows.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed :) tumblr~ explicitangstonly
> 
> come cry/laugh/talk with me!


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